Silent Hill: Rusted Memories
by Ryan Wilkinson
Summary: Collette Smith, a young girl, recently moved to silent hill. All seems normal until she discovers some strange oddities within town. The sudden desolate streets, the looming fog. Does it add up? Well she's certainly not ready for what she has bargained for.
1. Chapter 1: The Apartment

Standing, two feet awkwardly and drowsily shifting on the ground, slumping my weight left to right. The deep, dull illumination of the pure white snow seeps through the blinds, innocently, and childlike, taunting my face, shifting the light. I frustratingly trudge to the window, the carpet sinking into my toes, comfortably scratching them. I snap the thin blinds closed, the rusty sliding rings scrape on the bars, I fall into a trance for a second, the creaking seems to grow louder and more aggressively as I almost fall, I snap out of it, perhaps I got out of bed too fast. I turn around swiftly and self consciously. The woman in the mirror stares back, her long black hair and long covering fringe, draped on her face, head tilted, her pale face glowing in the light blue aura of the room. The white wall contemplating her face, pale but red lips, which stand out…. In a good way, I think. I notice the woman in the mirror, I move my lips and curse to the cold air, in which she mimics. Stepping closer to her, I see my hands, cold with an alarming blue tinge.

The ceiling fan didn't help. The air con isn't working for the fourth day running; the apartment is old, very old. But I guess it would have to do. Woodside apartments, etched into the door, and the familiar number 143, bold and reminding of the flight of stairs I would have to walk – the elevator is down, again. I check the mirror half-heartedly, my underwear wrapped around me, kind of clutching on to me, I know that it will leave marks, uncomfortable, but the consequences of running. To escape from the tight talons of the bustling, erratic city.

The streams of cars and the industrial smell and air, clogging my lungs, the constant fear of being shoved in the street or stuck on the busy road. So I quit my job and came here to the town of Silent Hill, at the age of 23. I know it's an instant bad move. But I had to, the Maine nature, the lake, the dark history just kind of appealed to me in that sub conscious way. Like I was chained to Silent Hill since I considered moving, when I was browsing places to go, it just kept popping up, this "Remote vacation destination, full of shops, right next to a beautiful ancient lake, circled by an intense history"

I perish the thought and resume to get changed, lots of layers today I can already tell, a long walk to the hospital for a check up, my flu is getting really bad, couldn't sleep for the 2nd week going, horrible nightmares of industrial landscapes, gates and….blood, the people I love. Without them my pursuits would be horrible, and with this fog too, I just need to clutch myself in danger of my soul getting lost. I get my clothes on, a white, knitted sweater with a large puffy white jacket, complete with furry inside and hood, and plus it didn't cost a huge amount. The shops – well, the shops that are open anyway – do have some really good value for money deals, the only downside is the amount of thrift stores, full of thrown memories. I put my skinny jeans on, not too skinny though – again, I would just feel too compressed. I slip on my furry boots, with an extra layer of thick socks. And my hat, which my mother knitted for me, she was always into knitting; she knitted socks for Christmas, clothes and scarfs for me and my brother. But the next time I see her I would have to carry home what feels like thousands of knitted items back home with me. I haven't seen my mother in a long time since dad died a few years back, she's just being stuck in this loop of grief. I not going to say me and my dad had a bad relationship, it was just hard for us both. I still loved him though. But after he died, something just urged me towards the town, I've being living here in the thick fog for a long time, but i still feel the same. My brother lives in the neighboring town Brahms, its got the same feel to it as Silent Hill, depressingly relaxing.


	2. Chapter 2: My Brother

I look in the mirror once again. Peering back to the blinds I slowly open them to look outside, besides, I aught to be a little gentler to it I suppose, the metal rings don't look in too good of a condition, come to think of it the whole apartment doesn't look in that good of a condition. I Wish I could just live by the Toluca Lake, that's where most of the history comes from anyway. Mysteries Indian tribes called it a religious sacred ground. There was also a deadly civil war, many of the graveyards are scattered with objects representing lost souls, sprinkled like the dust of the past. The supernatural stuff is the thing that really enraptures me though; ghost and the supernatural have always being a solid part of me, like a segment of me. The witch trials and the ancient cult. The local myths of the town being paralleled by an alternate reality. But that's just bullshit I suppose.

The fog has just got denser and heavier, it's like I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. I peer outside, wiping away the condensation of steam. It must be warm, but im still not feeling it. The streets are just empty, gone. I press my head closer to the window, my nose gently resting onto the glass. Nobody's there, what? Hmm, it is 7:35. The sky is pure white too, with a small flurry of snow. Perfect.

I grab the door knob to my room, grasping it with a determined hand, ready to get out of the wretched building as fast as possible. I twist and push to the familiar squeaking of grinding wood. I peer outside, a long straight corridor, im right at the end of it. It was the only piece of crap I could afford, but I will have to do.

I hit the ground floor, my foot awkwardly positioning itself on the floor, as I stumble forward. I gaze at the mail box. Opening it with my rusty keys with a rusty squeak. Nothing but junk… Wait? There's one for me but from whom? The writing seems familiar, the same untidy flick on the g's j's and y's… A cord fizzles in my head, my brother. Joshua. I greedily and animalistic I destroy the envelope eager to experience the sacred words.

"_Hey, its being a long time finally got some unpaid time off work, coming to yours soon. Have food ready, we'll go down to the park and have a walk or something… Joshua_"

A grin peels its way across my dumbfounded face. I fold the letter uneasily and shove it in my pocket.

"You seem happy," Oh shit! I startle myself, noise darts from the inside of my skull. Shaking me horrible, I turn. Johnny my landlord, young maybe in his early 20s, family business I presume, very sweaty.

"Johnny, one hot guy," I nod humorously and he cleans down his sweater of the small amount of dust he had on it.

"Could you possibly see to the air conditioning, its still not working?"

"I've been leaving it on all day, if yours isn't working I have no idea what's happening, ill happily check the pipes, its kind of cold to start with,"

I look at him and nod again. Then I open the door and step into the crisp, fog assaulted town of Silent Hill, heading for he medical centre


	3. Chapter 3: Bloodbath

The cold hits me hard. My lungs seem to contract and crunch as I inhale the sharp, frozen air. The fog delivers a seeping assault onto my face, the freezing vapour covering me in a shroud of mystery. I scan the street. The town it's just…empty. I stand gasping in awe as I circle round slowly, my heals crunching on the light dusting of snow. I circle around quicker to my alarm. It's just _deserted. _It's like everybody got up and left, no suitcases, no goodbyes, just shuffled or ran away. Like some force of evil was threatening them. I look at the shop opposite me, dead still. The closed sign is ignorantly showing, sticking its imaginary two fingers up at me. It's always open at this time. Speaking of time, I check my watch again. 7:20. What? It was 7:35 last time I checked, im so tempted to turn back and just sleep, it's probably just the medication my doctor gave me. But then I catch a glimpse of a street clock, misty but still clear to make out. The hands defiantly shadow behind 7:30. I clasp my temples, massaging them in utter confusion. What the hell is happening here? I start to walk, my hands crossed across my chest, tightly keeping the heat inside. Walking forward, the fog hits my face again, my cheeks noticeably irritated.

It's not till I get to the end of the street when I notice the outright biggest oddity. My feet are still crunching the ground, running on the pavement scared but exhilarated by the fog. I run to the street corner looking at the familiar rusted sign. I turn for a shortcut down an ally. I turn and face it, somehow it feels different like there's something lurking, something demonic. I walk down cautiously and pick up a smooth pace. My eyes darting left to right to my surroundings. I step closer to the gate I normally go through. I stop dead, my face freezing rigid. The eyes wide open. A scream nearly escapes from my mouth but I shove it back down my throat.

* * *

A bloodbath, the floor covered, it looks fresh. A corpse, mutilated on the floor, I can't even tell what it is, human or non-human I still freeze. I quiver for something to say but all that comes out is a clichéd scream of "Help!" I can't stop screaming it. It's like I have no control over the terror, like I'm out of myself. I shove my quivering fingers into my pocket to reach my phone. Old, and out dated but still reliable. I ring the first number I think of, 911. The receiver rings a couple of times and then speaks, but the response I get…the grim response, churns my stomach. The gurgling noise of a major cut, of the blood bubbling. A screech, distorted words screaming for help, screaming my name? I scream hello down the phone multiple times for a response but just static. That's when I fall onto my knees.

My throat contracting with shock, the burning substance builds up my throat and it releases, I close my eyes tight and release the shock. The ground covered in an icky substance, I can't say it. The corpse is still on the floor near me, unaware of itself, its eyes open but glazed. I eye it again, the tears streaming down me. My phone on the floor below me. That's when the floor connects with my face and it all blacks out. And the unfamiliar drone and screech of an air siren fills my head, darkness enveloping me.


	4. Chapter 4: Realization

Shock and horror shake my bones as I dart up. The sheets tangle around my jittering body as I scream. My hands thrashing above them, the light of the room blinds me. Wait, I swear I was outside a moment ago. It was a dream? But it felt so real, the shock, the pain. I scratch my head, still in my underwear. I'm so confused! I scan the room, normal, there's nothing that's changed as far as _I_ can see. I get up, slow and carefully, the bed smoothly creaking as I steady myself. I walk towards my desk, wanting to check my phone. I open the desk to a wooden creak and rummage around various items, keys, knitted items, even screwed up pieces of paper for my phone. I grasp it and shove it drowsily to my face. 1 message blinks onto the interface. I open it promptly.

"Hey, im still coming to meet you, you know, you can't change your mind ha-ha" I read the bottom looking for the contact, but no name just a number. I warily think about ringing it back, drumming my fingers against my waist. I shakily type the numbers in emulating the rhythm of the tune as I press the numbers. It dials, each space between them making me more and more anxious. Then someone picks it up. A voice sounds, low and serious but still light. "Hello?"

I warily speak with a cautious tone "Who is this?"

"Your brother who else?!"

What? I had him in my contacts, this cant be right…

"I have you in my contacts, why hasn't it registered, is there something wrong with my phone?"

"I'm pretty sure you rang me half an hour ago, you were really quiet, the feedback was shit, you were whispering too, something about the arrival of god, and the hospital, and that you were busy ' in another place'"

My face crumples; a confused anger shades my face.

"is this some joke? It's not funny…"

"Listen if you don't believe me, I recorded it, Ill send it to an attachment."

"Okay, but if this is a sick joke, you're going to be so fucked…"

He hangs up. I gasp, my hands massaging my forehead. What the actual hell? He's not serious is he? A new text flashes, I just can't even look at it. Urgh, why am I scared! He's a just immature brat who was probably trying to scare me. But I pick the phone up, releasing a gasp of irritating thoughts. And check the attachment, an audio file named 'creepy 3' great… I press the button to play it and push it to my ears.

The noises of amplified interference's drown my ears, followed by what sounds like agonizing pain, screaming? Heavy breathing too? It all builds up together in a disgusting putrid mix of sounds. A scream in the background, phrases screamed in the background. But that voice, it's undeniably mine. The tone, everything. Oh my god. The words seem to form in my ears. "She sent you here, the stupid bitch!" The voice seems to hysterically cry for a second, it's my voice, but, but why, who sent me where. "The hospital, the broken woman, the memories of you, the broken chants, you're the one who did it!" Her-or even my- voice escalates into hysterical screaming, then more interference. Then it ends.

I grasp my hands to my face violently. Gasping deeply, I stumble to the side of my bed, sitting down, catching my breath. I….I need to get out of here. I just need to run to my brother, and go back home.

I get changed, again. Into the same clothes I was in. I open the door – again. I peer outside, but there's something cautiously different to the normal experience. The whole hall is mostly plunged in a pitch black. I close the door slowly, and run to the window. Its… Completely white, no vision of the outside, I rub the window multiple times in rapid succession. But nothing. What the hell, is this a dream again? It cant be, I hit myself. But nothing seems to wake me, this is real, and its weird.

Right, I need some time to get some light source, wait… don't I have a light? I remember the day I moved, the safety instructions I got. The couple in the back of the small crowd kept kissing and talking about their current honeymoon. Turns out he and she went missing, good job I listened. I stop for a moment and scan through my mind at the phone audio. The hospital? Why? I block the memory for now and proceed to open the wardrobe and retrieve the small torch, quite heavy to be honest – but still reliable. I peer out and breathe in for a sharp shout. "Hello?" I breathe again. "Johnny?!" No response. I open the door and shut I behind me, the dark corridor awaiting me like a shroud of investigation


End file.
